


Music To My Ears

by catbcydream



Category: Minecraft (Video Game), Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Angst, College AU, Dream sings, Fights, Fluff, Getting Together, Happy Ending, Hurt, Soulmates, Streaming, YouTube, childhood bestfriends, coffee dates, dream has a pretty voice, friendships, oh my god they're so dumb im so sorry, singing n stuff, they all live in America, this will be in chapters LOL, wilbur and techno will be here too
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-09
Updated: 2021-01-09
Packaged: 2021-03-12 23:41:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,189
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28643868
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/catbcydream/pseuds/catbcydream
Summary: The new guy on campus, a familiar face to George, one he hadn't seen in months and years. Though they'd been known as practical soulmates, their relationship split and the two hadn't spoken. George has to face the person who granted him a terrible reputation in highschool.
Relationships: Clay | Dream/GeorgeNotFound (Video Blogging RPF)
Kudos: 52





	Music To My Ears

The nights seemed endless with only the sight of history books and scribbled papers, pens and notes scrambled over the old wooden desk in the corner.

Study nights were a typical thing for George, which often resulted in the slightest of moods, mass caffeine breaks and unwanted visits from his obsessively rowdy friends. 

The short views of the cloudy outdoors shone through the ever slight tilted curtains, dim lights fading through, just barely shedding light.

A cup of glistening coffee in hand, the boy groaned in disapproval, the mess of crumpled papers and notes flew down from his desk and spread across the old carpet flooring of his dorm room. 

“Why are you even here? I told you not to come on Thursdays.” George sighed, closing his eyes in frustration, pinching the bridge of his nose, eyebrows furrowed. The door stayed swung open wide as his friends settled down in the room.

His thick British accent rose through stern tone, creating an obvious statement of ‘hey, get the fuck outta here.’ 

George stared at his fellow students sitting across from him on his uncoloured bed sheets, taking a sip of his (now cold) caffeinated drink.

The shorter of the two, Sapnap, tried to contain his annoyingly contagious laughter by holding a hand against his mouth, the ring he wore on his thumb shining bright. It wasn’t the same usual laugh, it was awkward laughter, the kind to disguise something else.

Karl Jacobs, one of his best friends, shook him by the arm firmly while digging his face into his neck, hiding away his awfully red complection.

“What is with you guys? Am I missing something here?” George exclaims solely out of annoyance, setting his scratched mug back down on the paper-piled desk and crossing his arms awkwardly in front of him. 

The noise was eventually contained, forced just like forcing a sleeping bag back into the original shape for travelling.

“There’s a new kid, he’s got the ego of a hundred me’s, like me… but times a hundred!” Sapnap yelled out, his voice was high, once again on the stem of nervous laughter. 

“Like I care, he’s probably just another ignorant, self-absorbed asshole jock, what’s so “funny” about that?” George deadpanned the younger boy, in his exhausted stance, creating quotation marks with his fingers. 

Sapnap pushed back the front of his curtain-esk hair, fixing the scuffed bandana that lay across his forehead. 

He locked his eyes with George’s gloomy, dark pair and opened his mouth to speak.

“It’s cause you already know him.”

“Huh?”

“Tall and tan, glossy green eyes, the soft hair you always played with in P.E, even though you could barely reach?”

He paused and George stiffened.

“The literal reason you wore a hair tie over your wrist everyday except Thursdays for a whole three years? Ring a bell?”

Oh.

Oh.

There was only one person that came to mind, the person he had been hoping to avoid for a very long time. 

The one person who he had left, the one who relied on him, who cared for him, the only one who truly-

“George?” Said the voice. The same voice he had treasured. The same voice he hadn’t heard for the last year. 

The same voice with the awfully horrendous laugh, the same voice with the soft tones of apologies, the same voice he had heard singing everyday after school had ended across the walking track.

He panicked. George didn’t want to face his direction, he felt guilty, embarrassed. 

There was an uneasy, clenching pain inside of him, that made him feel like he was being dragged down to the depths of hell in slow motion.

He slammed the door. Yeah. Right in his face. 

Clay, better known as Dream in George’s eyes, was his best friend. Or in fact, was his best friend. 

They had met in high school, after George had moved from the UK to the US, a big move for him of course, especially with relentless jetlag and humongous loaded boxes to carry.

The boys were both 15, young, wild and free. Dream studied and aced his academics with ease, all his classes were targeting significantly higher up loads of work towards him, creating a perfect, or at least what they considered a perfect student out of him.

George didn’t quite excel in his studies. Sure he had his ups and downs of school work, he was considered a great student. However, unlike Dream, he never aced his exams, he struggled with problems and solutions, it was never really his strong suit.

The painful process of starting a new school was exhausting for George, but luckily enough for him, Dream and his friends were incredibly accepting of a new person, a new member of their ‘lacky.’ 

Two of those students being Sapnap and Karl, who also happened to be the most disliked pair of students at his high school, known for their delinquent and childish behaviour together. 

Who would’ve guessed that an introverted fifteen-year-old kid from Britain would become one of the most popular guys at school.

Dream, Sapnap, Karl, Ponk, Quackity and George. That made a lacky that consisted of 6 people. 

Everything was perfect, nothing ever faltered, there wasn’t ever anything that truly strained their friendship as a whole, not once over the few years they were friends.

That was until Dream and George had come to a disagreement, which seriously tested not only themselves but their remaining group.

Without even seeing it, their constant bickering had caused a major strain on their group and created a rather toxic and harmful environment to be all together at a time. 

George knew now, that even though they were seventeen, they were still just kids, and they didn’t see the signs, they didn’t see what they had done. 

They were purely focused on either ignoring one another at the lunch table, which caused tension and uncomfortable silence. Or, they were half yelling at one another, which caught stares and created a scene amongst all of their group. 

The year came to an end, they were finally settling into their next year, tension had been lifted ever so slightly since George and Dream had specifically requested not to have any classes together. Both Dream and George’s work ethic dropped, while Dream’s dropped significantly, creating a fuss amongst the teachers.

Dream’s parents had become involved with the school after being notified. The way his grades had started dropping below the academic standard, his behaviour had become increasingly more violent. It was concerning and they were afraid. They were scared for, and of their own child. He started to ignore everyone and everything around him, including his friends and family.

After months of persuasion and manipulation, his “best friend’s” parents had been informed of the events that had contradicted his academic abilities. That everything was in fact “George's doing.” They had set the blame onto him, a teenager, a friend, a person who loved him, for all his own wrong-doings. 

Dream was pulled out of school and sent to private education the following few months, where he would complete his last semester of the year alone, and the following. Not one of his friends followed, not one of them even got to say a proper goodbye. Sapnap was the only one who remained in contact with Dream after that, the only one.

The final thing Dream had said to George, was not a final thing, not a speech, not a sentence, not a word or words, but instead a hug. That hug told him everything. That hug was long and shaky, tight yet weak. Dream had fallen frail and dragged George down with him, where they sat for half an hour simply letting out hot monstrous tears as George stroked his hair from behind. A silent time, full of regrets, pain and guilt, it was a nightmare for George, he didn’t understand why he was hugging him back, comforting him, loving him still.

After all.

It was all his fault, wasn’t it?

\--

Reflecting on all those tiny significant moments of their high school experiences, George had finally realised exactly what he had done. What he imagined in his head had become a reality, and the huge chipped door was now shut, the other boy standing on the opposing side.

No, he didn’t want to shove a brass and wooden door directly in his ex-friend's face, but did he want to speak to him? Absolutely not. Did he want to even so much as see his smug face down the halls of his college? Of course not. 

There was nothing George wanted more than to just run and escape, get away from where he was, the guilt that settled upon him so viciously felt disgusting, he felt as though he was going to be sick.

“George? Please I- I just want to talk to you.” Dream said, his tone just as apologetic as back then. 

Please stop. Go away.

“I want to make things right.”

“Make things right? You’ve gotta be kidding me. You’re joking, right? My entire reputation was ruined because of you, I lost my friends, they blamed it all on me, how was it even my fault when this whole mess started because you were selfish!”

George immediately covered his mouth with his hand in pure shock and frustration with a slight gasp. The room went silent, there was only hushed movement outside the door, like the sound of tapping shoes against the carpet.

“Please… Let me at least try, it doesn’t have to be long, I’ve been needing to talk to you for a while, you blocked me on all social media, I don’t understand-” 

“I’m giving you ten minutes of my time, that’s it, ten minutes, got it?” George interrupted, turning to stare sickly into his friends' eyes, who stared back in utter fear, their faces wicked and sick.

George took a deep breath upon opening the door to the familiar figure, the same person who he had been friends with, the same troubled teen with fantastic academic ability, it was all the same, nothing had changed about him, not a single feature.

The pair of two ran out as quickly as possible, tripping over their own feet to escape the awkward aura engulfing the moonlit room. 

Something’s telling George this was all a setup.

“Hi.”

“Hey…”

Dream pushed back his dirty blonde hair, identically to how he used to, moving outgrown bangs out of his eyes, only for them to fall back into place immediately.

“You never learnt how to fix that.” George rolled his eyes with a sigh, sitting down weakly on his bed, sinking into the comfortable, springy mattress. “Come, sit.”

Dream only released a slight chuckle. He looked confused at George, something off, something different, why was he staring… at him? Or was he the one staring at Dream?

“You got those piercings you wanted.” George cocked his head, looking at the tops of Dream’s ears where multiple pieces of thick black metal lay.

“Yeah, I got them a few months back, all at once… Trust me it was a terrible idea and I’ll never do it again.” Dream shook his head wide-eyed at the thought and George released a mocking laugh.

Suddenly Dream blurted out stuttered words, his fingers fidgeting.

“You know I still care about you, I never hated you, I never stopped caring, I was just overwhelmed and scared and I-”

“I know, Dream,” George replied plainly, putting out a finger to shush the other boy. He stared out from his curtains that shone from the moon, his chin resting on his knees, his head heavy.  
“I know you still care- if you didn’t, why else would you be here?”

The expression of the younger boy changed swiftly, he remained calm and collected while his face melted into a soft smile, which made George flush a light opacitated shade of red without even realising until he lifted his slender hands to his face.

Never been more glad for the hint of darkness that shed upon his dorm room, George thought.

“Can I hug you?”

“Absolutely not.”

But Dream continued to plead, his voice only becoming more unbearable to listen to.

“C’mon…. I haven’t seen you in a long time.” 

George rolled his eyes, “I can never win with you.”

Dream let out a soft chuckle and stood proudly from the bed, patting down his creased hoodie. He rolled up one of his sleeves and offered a hand to George, his own much bigger than the older boys, he noticed Dream’s painted nails.

George took it of course, shakily. With a defeated sigh, Dream pulled the boy up and lifted him up close, their body heat combining while his arms wrapped around the smaller boy's waist firmly, so familiarly. The tanned student spun him twice around, while George's arms lay across the taller’s shoulders comfortably.

George couldn’t help but let out a laugh, a small snicker, which developed into full-fledged laughter. The faint blush that appeared on his face was now visible to Dream, their faces so close, their breaths intertwined. His eyes creased as he laughed, closed shut with pink cheeks he tried so desperately to cover.

“I’ll get dizzy, stop spinning me ‘round Dream!” George exclaimed through muffled fits of laughter, his hands instinctively moving from the boys' shoulders to the back of Dream’s head to play with his hair.

Dream’s laughter was faint but it was most certainly there.

His stupid chuckle- George thought.

The shorter boy stiffened ever so slightly to the chilled touch against his hands. After realising what he’d done, George’s expression changed and he dropped his hands away from the tangled locks to push against Dream’s chest weakly.

Put me down, move away, move, get away… George’s inner thoughts raced through his brain.

“Sorry, I got a bit carried away,” Dream chuckled awkwardly, letting the boy down, moving his ring-covered hand through his hair, in an attempt to savour the moment without creating an awkward mood.

(It didn’t quite work. The silence spoke a thousand words of “What now?” over and over.)

“You still call me Dream…” He commented- a chuckle escaped his mouth from behind his hand.

“It kinda just stuck with me, I’m not gonna start calling you Clay after all this time.”

Dream’s eyelashes flutter.

“Say that again.”

“Say what again?”

“My name, Clay. Say it again.”

“You’re so annoying, you know that don’t you?” George complained, shoving the taller man away.

He rolled his eyes and laid back comfortably, his bed was never the best, George thought, but it was comfortable enough to get even a few hours a night.

He didn’t really sleep much in college anyway.

George rested his head against the wall, his dishevelled hair perked up slightly. He looked over to see Dream, who had suddenly migrated to the other side of the dorm room, staring out the window into the darkness.

The boy had pried open the window that was locked in place.

“What are you doing-”

“Going to the roof, it’s a nicer view.” Dream interrupted like his thoughts were running wild like the wind through his hair.

It’s almost like he was searching for a pathetic was out of an awkward situation.

George couldn’t help but hide a laugh.

He watched with wide eyes as Dream hopped over the edge, now standing on the windowsill shakily holding onto the rusty built-in railing.

Dream shot the boy an insightful glance, his gentle eyes staring which made George’s heart burned like sharp embers, why did he feel so guilty about it?

Dream’s picture-perfect frame had disappeared, he pulled himself up hastily up from the windowsill, his calloused hands keeping a firm grip on the cracked concrete edges.

Silence had been brought upon the room, George left alone, the sweet scent of sandalwood remained, filling his nostrils uninvitingly. Kicking aside the balls of unwanted knowledge scribbled upon sheets of papyrus, George had formed a tight grip on the remainder of iron railing.

He stared down at the campus grounds, people walking and chatting in practical whispers, escaping to the comfort of the heated dorm buildings. It wasn’t an uncommon sight, George thought, for students to be out while dark.

He himself never dared go out alone at night.

Thoughts of dark danger sites were broken when gentle hums arise from above:

“Let's fall in love for the night  
And forget in the mornin'  
Play me a song that you like  
You can bet I'll know every line-”

It’s the song he and Dream always sung in high school, George replayed a memory from when the two had played soccer. The smaller and fragile wasn’t one for manual work, and would typically decide against getting himself stuck in the middle of roughhousing sports and excuse himself from the match. 

But this time was different.

Dream was stuck on the opposing team while playing the same sweat-worthy position as George. Dream used those lyrics to distract him, he used their song to lure him away, break his needed concentration. Unfair play, if you asked George, while Dream found it astounding himself, how easily George was to break. How easy it was to get inside his head, how easy it was to-

“I know you’re listening to me, George~” Dream taunted, his soft and gentle tone was replaced by his usual firm and cocky challenging one, his grin blindly evident in the way he spoke.

“Shut your mouth for once and maybe I’d actually enjoy myself.” George retorted, standing over the slight edge of his dorm room, his tone exhaled as hissy and arrogant, unlike usual.

“But you like my singing, no?” 

A pang of guilt settled upon George’s mouth, careful of what to say to unnecessarily upset his… friend? Companion? 

Yeah right, that’s just what he wants, George shuddered.

“Well, you certainly haven’t gotten any better.” George mocked, his tongue clicking signalling his over-confident answer.

Dream’s hair swung down from the upper edge of the window, his face deadpanned with the slightest pout by his lips, George was tempted to yank at his short ponytail that blew with the humid wind.

His face held only inches off of George’s, their eyes connected by unwanted strings, locked by mesmerising shades of green and grey. Their breaths intertwined, the sweet scent of mint and long drunk coffee swayed in the air, silence engulfing them whole.

Dream coughed and turned his head, averting his gaze, giving a twisted expression as he moved flyaway hairs from across his freckled face. 

“Coffee breath is disgusting,” he wrenched- half-jokingly.

George’s face had risen to a striking shade of red, he was too close for comfort, too close for his taste, he felt almost as if he’d been taken back to Christmas dinner, where his family asked about his “girlfriend” which to George, was obvious he didn’t have one.

He wasn’t thinking at all.

George’s white-knuckled hands unwillingly started to lose their grip on the greased bars of metal, which (unfortunately) resulted in sir “Prince Charming” to come to the rescue. 

“Hey! Woah- George you okay?” 

\--

**Author's Note:**

> thank you for reading this chapter! i'll be updating as often as i can, this is only the first chapter of many to come!  
> p.s. i don't have all the best writing ability, but this is primarily to test myself and see how i can go!
> 
> thank you so much !!
> 
> (kudos much appreciated) !!


End file.
